Page 7 of Bride of the Sinful Laird
Edmund sucked in a breath. He was right, she was of noble birth.
“I am Edmund Sinclair of Dùn Ara on the Isle of Mull at yer service, me Lady Annora Munro.” He bowed from the waist.“Now, please tell me how a lady such as yerself came tae be floundering in the sea pursued by Barbary pirates?”
She sighed. “’Tis a lengthy tale. Are ye certain ye’ve a mind tae listen?”
He laughed. Now that he had some inkling of who the lass was he was more than ever curious about what had brought her tae that part of the Isle of Skye. After all, Foulis Castle, the seat of the Munro clan, was on the west coast of Scotland, a great distance from where they were now.
“Please.”
Annora began, her voice still husky from her earlier ordeal. “Me faither sought a marriage between meself and a powerful English baron, believing he would win the English king’s favor.”
Edmund nodded. “So, yer da has nae sworn allegiance tae the true king of Scots?”
She shook her head quite prettily, and he could not help but notice her perfectly shaped red lips and her creamy skin.
“A marriage contract was drawn up against me will between meself and the Baron Sir Bertram de Radcliffe, of Cumberland.”
Edmund whistled between his teeth. “A powerful baron, indeed.” He frowned. “Yet he is surely a very old man, is he nae?”
She nodded, shuddering.
The thought of an old man’s bony hands clawing at her body and his bloodless lips kissing her plush, red, mouth, made Edmund sick to his stomach.
“Ye’ve still nae provided an account of why ye’re here. The Isle of Skye is nowhere near yer home or the home of yer betrothed in Cumberland.”
When she explained why she had journeyed from Foulis Castle to her aunt and uncle at Castle Tioram in Loch Moidart, he laughed again.
“So ye’re telling me that yer betrothed was too afraid of the wicked, fearsome Scots tae make the trip north to scoop up his beloved?”
She pshawed. “Beloved? Why the man cares nay a jot fer me, I could be nay more than that bedpost tae him.” She nodded to the end of the four-poster bed. “He cares only fer me faither’s wealth and an allegiance with a powerful Scots clan. I am naught tae him. And when his ship came fer me, I didnae board it. With a ploy, I embarked on the other ship riding at anchor. I didnae ken it was a slave-ship. I only wished tae escape from the hateful marriage that lay in store fer me.”
Realizing what she’d done and how she’d come to be on Skye, he threw back his head and guffawed.
“So ye leaped from the frying pot straight intae the fire.”
She looked at him crossly, a fire lighting up her gray eyes. “Aye. ‘Twas a shock when I discovered the lasses shackled on board.”
“Luck was on yer side in the end. Few ever escape the corsairs. I’m surprised they didnae shackle ye as soon as ye boarded. ‘Twas a brave thing ye did tae jump from ship. Ye could have drowned.”
She gave a wan smile. “Drowning would have been better than tae be enslaved – as a wife or as a lover tae the Sultan.”
He grew serious as he contemplated her story. “I ken yer danger hasnae passed. What of the old Englishman who wishes tae have ye as his bride? Will he nae search for ye?”
She shook her head, giving a sharp little laugh. “He’ll look elsewhere fer a bride rather than risk his precious ship sailing north. ‘Tis me faither who will send out men tae discover where the ship I boarded was heading If I’m very lucky, he may give up looking when he finds I was abducted by pirates.”
Edmund turned his eyes to the blazing fire. It was clear the lass had little hope of evading pursuit. And he knew it would not take long before she was tracked to where they were. Someone would offer her up for a few gold coins.
Swinging back from the fire he met her gaze. “Ye cannae remain here. ‘Tis nae safe. Ye’ll be captured again in nay time.”
“And what dae ye propose I should dae?” There was that haughty tone and the stubborn tilt of her chin. He was finding her quite delightful.
Before he had a chance to respond there came a loud rapping on the door. She startled and he held up a reassuring hand.
“Who is there?”
“’Tis Davie, milord. I’ve brought ye the garments ye asked fer.”
Edmund strolled to the door and flung it open, taking the bundle from Davie and passing him a coin. The landlord made a clumsy bow and disappeared down the stairs.
